


This is My Emotional Support Werewolf

by alolan_sableye



Category: Monster Prom (Visual Novel)
Genre: Friends With Benefits, Friends With Benefits but it Evolves Later, Friends to Fuck buddies, M/M, Mutual Pining, Unrequited Crush
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-12
Updated: 2019-09-12
Packaged: 2020-10-17 02:35:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20613536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alolan_sableye/pseuds/alolan_sableye
Summary: After an unintentional one night stand Scott and Damien both stew in their feelings as they explore this new potential friends with benefits angle of things.Damien's emotionally stunted, Scott's a supportive sweetheart. The the sinnamon roll doesn't want to corrupt the cinnamon roll and pining ensues. Maybe Damien can help Scott work through some of his issues with standing up to his family who obviously disapprove of this arrangement at least.





	This is My Emotional Support Werewolf

It’s a rare occasion for the Howl family home to be almost deserted. There’s usually a small standing army of werewolves running around the place, young pups to toddlers, adolescent teenagers, a visiting aunt, uncle, countless cousins, and the ever present matriarch Grandma Howl keeping order over them all. But today, due to a mix of detention, a youngster’s play recital, and the fact that no one was willing to babysit the pack of youngsters after several sitters going missing, the place was almost empty. 

One werewolf remained, trusted with the task of not trashing the place. Scott Howl was usually pretty good at that. Especially when he’s alone, where he sits around and waits for others to come back. But today he’s not going to be all alone! And that has the werewolf’s tail wagging as he gets things together for his company.

Wrestling was banned from the Howl household thanks to the high risk of damage to the walls and furniture, but Scott has been convinced that it wouldn’t be a big deal to just have one night. Especially since his cousins weren’t around, they’re the ones who did most of that shit, right? A certain demon’s words echoed though Scott’s head as he gathered up bags of chips and jerky from the cupboard. He dumps those on the coffee table when there’s a heavy knock on the door. 

Scott’s tail goes wild as he barks an alarm, charging to answer it. Damien’s leaning on the door frame on the other side, a plastic bag from the gas station down the street under his arm. Scott stops short of tackling him and instead reaches out and gives him a back breaking bear hug and a lick to the cheek to greet him.

“Uhhhggg, come on man fuck off, if I need you to clean my face up I’ll ask.” Damien shoved himself free of the hug, tail twitching.

“Sorry, just excited. You never come over!” Scott’s hollered back, tail never slowing.

“Yeah.” He agreed they didn’t hang enough, but coming over here just to have The Wolfpack harass his ass was annoying thanks to this place being way too flammable. As the demon entered the home he glanced around, double checking that the place was in fact empty and there wasn’t a pack of werewolves waiting to ambush him. It’s clear. “Come get your drink before I down it for you.” He held up a bottle of scotch he’d bought, just for the werewolf since they both had trouble with sharing. The demon had his own bottle of whiskey tucked away. 

“Oh! Oh oh oh it’s got my name on it and everything!” If Scott’s tail was going fast before, it’s classifiable as a deadly weapon now. He takes the bottle and pops the top off with his teeth before taking a swig. And then another, and then downing it. 

“Fucking Hell that was suppose to last you a while.” Damien was just now getting settled on the couch with his own drink unopened, his hands busy with the chocolate bar he’d bought too. 

“…Ah, habit. It’s mine! What if someone took it?” Scott argued as he trashed the glass in the recycling.

“I’m the only one here, dumbass, I’m not stealing it.” He argued right back, sounding a little indignant that Scott would accuse him. He’s evil, not a total douchenozzle. 

The werewolf’s tail finally slowed to a nervous little shake as he lowered his eyes, whining. He’s not sure how to explain himself, but thankfully Damien’s not the kind to linger on such a small hiccup. He blows it off by turning the TV up as loud as it’d go so he can enjoy the shitty wrestling logo power point transition it’s way onto the screen with a lot of fire effects and explosion noises. Scott vaults himself over the back of the couch so he can join him. The miscommunication slips both their minds as gladiatorial glee slips in.

It doesn’t take the staged acts of violence long to get the boys riled up. Scott half barked half growled at the screen whenever something went wrong for his favored fighter, and Damien mirrored swings and tackles from his space, shaking the whole couch when he lifts up off the seat and crashes back down on it. 

One feat has them both entranced, a flying leap off the top rope with a folding chair, coming down hard on the opponent with a skull rattling crash. They’re both practically howling, Scott obviously more so. 

“I’ve gotta try that!” Damien’s on his feet, jumping in place. It was an automatic match ender, and the TV was cutting to commercial. There is no more simulated blood sport to satiate him and he needs action. “He came out of nowhere! Flying in like BLAM.” The demon leaped up to the arm of the couch, tail and arms extended out to balance him. 

Scott was also worked up, and he craned his neck up at the demon. The energy is chaotic and Damien’s carelessness is feeding into the mood. He also wants to try some of those moves, maybe if they’re just careful. “You think the other guy could have gotten out of that if he just. Just didn’t suck so bad?”

“No fucking way! That leap was unstoppable. You can’t stop a swoop like this!” He doesn’t have a chair, instead only a system full of whiskey and poor life choices. Nothing quit as effective as folded metal as the demon leaps from the sofa arm and towards the werewolf.

Scott’s not any only child like Damien is, he’s familiar with friendly roughhousing that doesn’t end in murder. So he’s more than equipped to move, roll over on his back and put his hands up to catch the demon before sending all that momentum from the leap on it’s way. The demon lands and then launches off the other end of the couch, going into a roll as he hits the floor, but not before he knocks over a lap along the way. He lands on his back, stunned and carpet burned but unharmed. The lamp isn’t as lucky. It's sent off it's perch and shatters. 

There’s a few moments of silence where Scott’s having a miniature panic. What is his grandma gonna say about this? Nothing good that’s for sure but what exactly is what’s bothering him. He doesn’t want to get grounded! Or yelled at! Or called a bad boy!

That’s all thrown out the window as the demon gets upright, crouching on the floor before launching himself back over the side table that was the lamp’s former home and right at Scott. They tumble, both falling to the floor in a heap as the werewolf reacts. He bites the arm that’s gripping his shoulder, a play bite that’s not meant to do real damage but just hold as Scott tried to get Damien under control with another bear hug. 

The demon’s hard to get a hold of though, wiggly and hiding under two layers of clothes that he doesn’t give a damn if he rips. Damien’s going for the choke hold, trying to get around Scott’s massive shoulders and at his neck. Which is really hard when he’s latched onto his arm like that. It’s a thrashing stalemate until the demon gets real cheeky, his tail winding back and coming around hard on the werewolf’s ass, a loud crack going off on impact. There’s a yelp and Damien’s arms are free while Scott is still processing what exactly smacked his ass so hard. Damien has ample time to get a grip on him.

It’s not nearly the easy fight the demon thought it would be from there on out though. The second air is cut off Scott rolls, shakes like a wet dog, and starts charging on all fours. Damien can’t get his feet on the ground to break, and he’s so far up on Scott’s head that everything they run into, the heavy wooden TV stand, the coffee table, the walls, he takes to the face. Finally he slips off and lands face first on the floor as Scott gains his ability to breath back. 

Damien’s not the kind to stay down for long, even when there’s blood on his face when he peels it from the floor. He’s smiling through it, bear trap's worth of pointed fangs fully on display. He’s not done, far from exhausted or deterred by a little bleeding. Scott’s panting as he gets back to his feet at the same time, never giving any sign that he’s backing down either as his tail wags high and confident behind him, long canines slightly barred in a playful grin. 

Damien makes another aggressive move, and Scott sees it coming from a mile away. The demon has a habit of telegraphing all his moves in his excitement, always so eager for a punch or a claw. Scott catches his wrists and side steps him, using his hold to tug the demon where he wants him, into a full Nelson. Damien makes an indignant half growl half yell as his feet leave the ground. Trying to take a football player’s legs out from under him with such poor momentum kicks is useless but damn it he does try. 

Scott leans the demon and himself up against the counter top that separates the kitchen and living room, trying to catch his breath without giving Damien any chance to wiggle away. 

Damn it Damien tries. He tries to twist, kick, bite, even his tail is trying to lash out at the werewolf and take him by surprise but that won’t work a second time. He’s a growling seething mess right now. He can’t even accuse the werewolf of cheating, it’s been a fair even fight all the way up till now. Sure, he could set the room on fire, but not even he’s that sore of a loser. 

The longer he’s pinned, the more the demon’s struggles weaken. He’s sore, and burning out on anger. It’s easy to get angry at Scott but real hard to keep it up, no one can stay mad at that face. He does know this hold is making him horny, not a rare occurrence around the werewolf, and Damien needs distance to keep it under control. He’s a young adult demon with a libido from Hell, literally, it’s not the first time he’s gotten aroused over roughhousing and it won’t be the last. But he’s mature enough to try not to draw attention to it. He’s no stranger to friends with benefits, but he’s not sure Scott will be into the concept. It’s not like that’s a thing that you talk about, it more just happens after a drunk night of fucking off.

Damien started up his struggle again, backing up against Scott to try and get out of that hold. “Okay, okay fuck off I can-oh.” He backs right into a raging boner. Or, at least he’s pretty sure that’s what it is. “You’re not keeping milk bones in your pocket, right?” He sounds real hopeful that isn’t what he’s feeling pressed against his ass but damn it with Scott he needs to tread lightly.

Scott on the other hand is a little unsure how to answer. “It’s not milk bones.” He’s unsure if Damien would like the real answer. He gets a real clear answer when the demon backs into him even more, grinding on him properly. The werewolf lets go of the hold, hands dropping to the demon’s sides as his hips buck on their own accord. He lightly bites on Damien’s shoulder and that gets the demon to press back harder.

“Don’t fucking tease, jackass, if you’re using teeth we’re doing this.” Damien rested his arms on the counter, wrestling match forgotten. His tail wrapped it’s way around Scott’s knee, squeezing. 

To answer the question of consent Scott bit down harder, enough to leave a mark as he took a step forward, pressing Damien up against and onto the counter. It’s so nice to not have Damien getting pissy over hugs and affection, even if it’s rougher than he usually goes with friends. Scott tries really hard not to hurt the people around him and being encouraged to let loose a little is wonderful. Especially when it’s the demon radiating intoxicating heat under him and grinding against him. He licked at the drying blood trail Damien earned when he ran him into the coffee table. Demon blood tastes like iron mixed with brimstone, a lingering aftertaste that feels like how burnt matches smell. The oddity of it doesn’t stop the werewolf from licking, instinct to clean and help overcoming any concern with the taste.

Scott’s roaming hands keep Damien from complaining about the tongue and lack of teeth. They’re on his fly, fumbling sightly. Just as he gets the button undone there’s a pause that makes the impatient demon squirm. “What?” He asked between his teeth.

“I don’t have any lu-” His genuine concern gets the demon to chill out again, shushing him with a hand reaching behind him to scratch at the side of Scott’s face, fingers digging into his beard. 

“In my back pocket.” Damien gives an evil sounding snicker as he stuck his ass in the air.  


“Oh!” More excited and nervous fumbling, the slight vibration through Scott’s whole body from his tail wagging that the demon can feel, and finally the feeling of hands back on the demon’s pants as the werewolf got back on track. 

Damien can’t wait around forever like this, he gets way too bored and way too curious too easily. He craned his neck behind him before he turns around. Scott’s warming the lube up, but forgot to take his own pants off while he was at it. Damien grinned up at him, a single finger laid over the button of Scott’s jeans. “Want help? You look real fucking cramped in there.” Scott realizes his mistake and nods, not the slightest bit bashful about getting naked, he’d flat out forgot. Damien helps the werewolf get freed up from his pants and briefs, grinning when his fully erect cock springs up. He’s played naked basketball with him but that’s a mere shadow compared to getting to appreciate it up close and hard. 

Scott has gone almost nonverbal, nodding and whining and grunting making up a lot of his communication. The animal-like noises come easier than words, sound less awkward than requests. It’s so much simpler to butt his head against Damien’s with a whine and a light shoulder check to give the demon the signal to turn around, but he does find his voice. “I liked the position we had, it-. It-” He whines and the demon butts his head right back.

“You mean this one? You like it doggy style?” He turned around, leaning heavily on the counter, ass out and his tail pulled up and to the side, out of the way. “You trying to say it gave you a nice view?” Scott’s a lot more gentle than Damien usually goes for so far, he can’t help but egg him on a little bit. 

The werewolf leans over him again, biting into his shoulder through his jacket and earning a shiver and a hiss from the demon. “Nope, just like doing that.” There’s that intense tail wagging again. Scott lubed up his cock with long lazy strokes before he turned his attention towards Damien. He spreads him, hands warm and gentle as he inserted a single finger to press into the demon.

Damien can appreciate the gentle consideration for all of a few seconds before he’s backing up again, getting that finger deeper. “I’m not made of paper, don’t be scared of hurrying the fuck up.”

Scott is at first concerned before he huffs and reached his free hand toward the demon’s good horn, gripping it by the middle and using it to leverage Damien back into position. “I wanna do this right though. Getting hurt here’s no fun!” He gives the finger in him a little wiggle before he inserted another one.

The forcefulness of it all gets the demon to stop struggling. Though he does still whine and twitch over Scott’s methodical process. The werewolf tries to appease him with nips to the neck, which usually quiet the demon for a while. The marks keep fading, even proper hickies fading far faster than they should. Chalk it up to demon resilience. 

Finally, Finally, Scott deems him stretched and prepped enough for him and puts his hand on the demon’s hip to keep him steady, his other never leaving his horn. Damien grips the opposite edge of the counter, giving him someplace to hold on as the tip glides along his cheeks and then slips in. It’s hot, that werewolf warmth comforting in a way to the demon. It’s a lot easier to adjust to than undead or more humanoid body temperatures, and Scott took so much time warming the lube up he’s not having a terrible time dealing with what feels like ice in his ass. He tries to press back on it, push more in but Scott growls at him and tightens his grip. 

It’s so slow, the way Scott feeds a little bit at a time, gentle pressing and never deviating from his pace. Only nipping or marking Damien when he gave a particularly needy groan, and licking more of the blood from him. By the time he’s planted firmly inside Damien’s clean of blood and about to go mad from being still for so long. He’s hiding his face in the crook of his arm, very focused on not moving. So focused that he doesn’t notice when Scott stops his own movement. 

Scott nuzzled his nose against the back of the demon’s neck, concern clear in his voice. “You alright?” 

It’s the tone that makes the demon jerk, tensing, clenching, before he’s on the same page. “Yeah, fuck yeah, damn peachy.” His pointed ears are angled down, and the demon’s got a rare frustrated blush on his face. He’d bite back so easily if that tone had been anything but genuine, but the real care just makes him flustered. Damien covers this by shifting his hips, pulling off of few inches before pressing back onto Scott sharp and fast. 

The werewolf’s breath catches in the most satisfying way, getting a big grin out of the demon. Until Scott shifts his own hips, starting up a steady rhythm of deep thrusts that gets the demon to groan. His skin is heating up, almost steaming as he presses his forehead against the counter. Damien moves his hips to meet him as he learns the rhythm, savoring the lewd slap of skin against skin with each thrust. 

When a particularly sharp thrust gets Damien’s back arching he cries out, a stream of curse words are his only coherent thoughts and sounds until the stars behind his eyes fade. His own movements get more frantic and fevered. “Faster.” He pants. Scott’s ever the people pleaser, and he picked up the pace into a string of shallower thrusts that bombarded Damien’s prostate, only gaining speed and momentum. The werewolf’s grip on him changes, gripping him around the middle as his other hand grips the demon’s cock. 

It’s all a blur, Scott zeroed in on giving Damien as much pleasure as he can muster and Damien’s already losing it. The demon is way too accustomed to teasing and pacing things out all night. This intensity and earnest effort to please him is overwhelming. Scott digs his teeth into his shoulder, teeth sinking past his jacket’s leather and getting to mark his skin, and the demon loses it there. His whole body shakes, his moan sounding almost as surprised as Damien was for cumming so fast. He makes a hot mess of Scott’s hand before he comes to a shaky stop, not looking up from the counter.

Scott keeps himself together, knowing it’s rude to cum in someone without asking first. He pulls out when the demon looks spent, pressing his length between his cheeks and hotdogging him instead. It’s not as good, but it’s still hot hot friction against his skin, and he gets off, cumming along Damien’s crack. Not as rude, but almost as bad, but no one’s told him that specific move is probably not advisable on a first date. 

Scott leans heavily on Damien, supporting himself on the counter with one arm as he lapped at the demon’s neck, the only skin he can get at the moment. “You okay, Damien?” 

“Yeah, duh.” His head shot up, face looking indignantly back at him. “I got off, didn’t I?” Yeah, really early too. He’s embarrassed about it, but that’s not coming across to Scott. The werewolf’s more worried he hurt him than how quickly Damien got off, taking a little early ejaculation as a compliment really. 

Scott takes the snap back fine, it rolls over him like rain over duck, or more flies right over his head like one. He smiles back, big and sincere as his tail wags happily. “Good, I was worried about getting rough.” That was the limit of Scott’s definition of rough, a little biting and thoroughly dicking him down. Damn. The demon tries to recover, all that sweet attention only getting the better of him, and he moves to start bending for his pants only for Scott to press all his weight on him now. “Wait! Don’t you want a shower before you put those back on?” 

“...Fine yeah, that’s. A good idea I guess.” He didn’t need to smear this mess in his boxers. Besides, Scott’s advice usually works out. 

The werewolf bends down and plucks both their pants off the floor, looking happy as can be to help. “Oh! Bathroom’s this way.” Right, Damien wasn’t over much but that’s fine, Scott’s thrilled to lead the way there. This is the weirdest walk of shame Damien’s ever been on. He’s usually way more wasted before he starts outright giving his pants away. 

Inside the bathroom Damien starts shucking his jacket and shirt, hesitating when Scott does the same. He gets over it fast enough. They shower after gym together plenty. Damien steps up to turn the water on and chooses to turn the knob as far as it’d twist, and soon there’s a steamy stream of water to relax under. Damien’s loving it, but just this much is making the werewolf pant as he gets into the tub after him and closes the shower curtain. 

There’s a few attempts on Scott’s end to help Damien clean up, which the demon stubbornly refuses. It’s confusing for the werewolf. He’d always assumed Damien just didn’t care for being touched, affection always getting an aggressive rise out of him. But after that… Well Scott doesn’t know what to make of it. Casual affection seems to get the same old reaction now. 

“Did I do something wrong?”

“What? Fuck no, I can just do this shit on my own. Hurry up, water’s freezing up here.” He made an excuse to rush through the motions of soaping up and rinsing off, escaping the shower with Scott not far behind. 

“Ah, okay. So. Do you want to spend the night?” 

That’s. An awful idea. Damien can’t think of a worse idea. Between the shit they broke and the smell of sex in the house he doesn’t have to imagine how pissed The Wolfpack is going to be over this. But the werewolf is giving him such a look, his head lowered, eyes angled up, the smallest little hopeful wiggle of his damp tail behind him. 

“Grr. Ugggghhh… Fine. But only if I can bunk with you.” He’s not getting jumped alone. Scott gets to see how shit his cousins can be about him hanging around/fucking with different monsters himself. 

Scott looked ready to explode with excitement. He never got to have sleepovers here. His tail sprayed water all over the bathroom as the werewolf howled with excitement, making the demon’s ears ring. 

Damien puts his shirt, jacket, and boxers on, carrying his pants and shoes with him to Scott’s room where they settle in. Scott’s insistence on sticking so close is setting off big red flags for the demon. Maybe this was a fucking mistake, messing around without laying out some real boundaries and reaching a mutual understanding and agreement. 

“Hey, dude?”

The werewolf perked up and shit how is he suppose to explain his shitty attitude about commitment to that face. “Yeah?”

“You know this isn’t like… We’re not-” We’re no dating, this isn’t serious, just a little fucking around between friends is all. Simple. Why is that so hard to just say? 

While Damien’s still struggling with his words Scott’s ears perk up, the distant sound of tires on gravel reaching them. “Hang on, they’re back! Gotta say hi!” Also explain the mess, probably clean it up, but his mind isn’t on that right now! He’s got Damien over and this is the funnest hangout he’s ever had with him and he’s already got ideas rattling around his head about doing it more with him! And! His family’s here and they’ll all hangout and get along now and it’ll be great now. He’s so excited he leaned towards the demon and stole a kiss, not a lick to the face but a real full on kiss, okay more like the briefest of pecks, from his lips before he was up off the bed and bolting out of sight, howling for his fellow werewolves.

That’s enough. More than e-fucking-nough. That right there is the demon's breaking point. Damien waited till Scott’s bellowing was far off to jump for his pants and pull them on, fumbling with his wallet as he forced his feet into his shoes. He pulled a couple crumpled hundred dollar bills that he stole from someone, he can’t remember any details just that they sure didn’t need this money anymore, and dropped them on the dresser. That’s more than enough for all the shit they broke, right? No reason to come after him for some financial payback.

With that out of his hair the demon opened Scott’s window and slipped out into the night air.


End file.
